Hell Was His Angel
by Katence
Summary: Those nightmares of young boy Elliot are finally coming true. But when they do, can he manage to find a way out? Or will his sister and him be trapped inside of Silent Hill forever?


**Hell Was His Angel**

**Chapter One –**

**Sweet Scent of Death**

The thought of forever being locked up in such a prison sent shivers down the young teenagers spine. The shiver pricked up his hair so high it could send and receive radio messages. Without a moments hesitation the black book was firmly slid under his bookshelf, hopefully never to be seen again. Little pieces of dust floated in the air from underneath it; the only thing he hoped would be left of such a horrific book. He felt his hands tremble a little bit and his heart was pounding in the dim light. His pale hand reached up to switch the light up more in his room; so that it was much brighter.

Posters of bands, sharks, wars, and different action and horror films were pasted onto the walls, covering most of the dark blue pain. His bed was messy; the cream sheets tangled up with each other, the pillow had fallen somewhere onto the floor, and a creepy looking tiger lay flat on its back, about to fall down the gap between the bed and the wall. A window was behind the bed frame; the curtains open wide to only show the darkness of the sky and the faint glisten of the cold stars. A silver desk was on the opposite side of the room; covered in word documents, school reports, amazing drawings of people and animals, the odd open book or two and a few pencils had scattered across the mess of the desk. Sitting happily in the middle of all the mess was a black laptop. His wooden wardrobe was placed in the middle of his bookshelf and chest of draws. Exhaling deeply, his eyes glanced at the clock on his laptop. Ticking silently, the arrows read 1am.

The wardrobe door opened with a frightening squeak. His eyes glanced at the left, to see a mirror hanging from the inside of the door. For a second his examined his appearance; his milky white hair was brushed foreword and slightly messy; his pale skin matched his hair colour almost perfectly and his eyes were a sharp shade of ice blue. Standing at 5"4, he was quite small for his age, of fifteen. He build was thin, yet not fragile looking. His face looked like a twelve year old – which did quite match his personality. He was clear from acne, and almost was like a pale doll. His hand reached for his head, rubbing his hair around slightly; making it messier then it had been. Reaching his hand into his wardrobe he took out a pair of drab blue pyjamas, quickly replacing his normal cloths with them.

He threw his day cloths onto the chair, before shutting the wardrobe door with his foot. It made a loud _slam_ making him jump slightly. His hand hesitated over the light switch for a few moments. He shook his head, mentally scolding himself. _'Don't be so silly!'_ he told himself. _'It was just a story – stop being a chicken. Switch off the light, go to sleep.'_

"I knew I shouldn't have let you borrow that book," a feminine voice behind him said. The boy jumped suddenly, feeling his heart race. His eyes widened and he turned his head quickly.

Stood at his door was a much older girl; she was at the age of twenty five; ten years older then the boy. She stood taller then him, her one hand sat on her hip, whilst she leant on the frame of the door. Her hair was bright red, sitting on her shoulders. It was straight, but the ends curled together. Her bangs had been layered across her forehead, threatening to cover her left eye. Her eyes were dark green, mixed with blue – her skin was a beautiful olive complexion, which looked extremely dark compared to the boys. She was wearing a pair of white and pink stripped pyjamas; her sleeves had been pulled up to her elbows, to show her thin arms. Her pink lips had curled upwards into a smirk.

"Oh leave it, Cassidy," he snapped, switching off the light so the pair were engulfed in darkness. He heard a deep sigh leave her mouth.

Pretending she wasn't there, he headed to his bed, picking up his pillow as he did so. He could just about see the faint outline of Cassidy; her arms seemed to have been stubbornly crossed, yet he didn't care. He spent a few moments untangling his bed sheets, before pulling them up to his head, which rested on the pillow. He knew Cassidy would still be standing there; glaring at him with her stubborn eyes. This somehow relaxed the teen, but when he heard the door shut, his heart sunk and his hand clutched the sheets harder as he pulled them over his head.

Those thoughts of monsters looming in the shadows of his room, drooling at the thought of tearing open his flesh clung deeply in his thoughts. His eyes stayed open, his back close to the cold wall by his bed. How he hated those nightmares he would have and yet he continued to read about the horrors. At first they fascinated him; kept him wanting more, but after the dark thoughts appeared, frightening him more then the books ever could. Just the thought of those books telling him about being trapped in the dark abyss of hell with only the sound of screams of tortured souls to be heard terrified the poor boy.

Something gently touched his body, making his jump out of his skin. A little gasp escaped his mouth and he felt a warm body slip its way into his bed. His heart was pounding and a firm hand pushed him down, preventing him from rising. He heard a little laugh he recognised, making all the dark thoughts disperse.

"It's only me," Cassidy's voice softly said.

"Cass, get out of my bed," the boy ordered, trying to push her away. The smell of jasmine filled his nostrils from her cloths.

"What? And leave you to your nightmares?" she asked. Her head rested on the pillow they were both sharing, and she took her hand off his back. "Surprisingly, Elliot, I don't like the thought of you have these silly nightmares."

There was silence. She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Go to sleep and everything will be okay."

**Saturday**

**11 : 05am**

Elliot slid a mint green stripped shirt on over his bare chest, after having put on a pair of blue jeans. He had just had a relaxing shower, which had helped wash away the remains of his previous nightmarish thoughts. Once he was changed, he brushed his hair down and made his bed. The window was open, letting in all the cold air from outside; the world had been covered by a blanket of snow, which Elliot loved.

"Elliot?" Cassidy's voice called.

Quickly leaving his room, shutting the door behind him, he went into the hallway of the top floor of the house. Their home was three stories high; with three bedrooms on the top floor, a bedroom and a bathroom on the second and a kitchen, dining room and living room on the first floor. In the night their house was extremely creepy, and Elliot often found himself switching on every single light if Cassidy wasn't at home. It was a beautiful home he lived in, yet it was just too eerie on his own.

"Elliot, come here," Cassidy called again from the second floor.

Slowly, he walked down the stairs, trailing his hand on the banister. As he walked, he could see Cassidy standing in the middle of the hall, her hand on her hip as usual. She wore a pair of jeans, a white top and a white hospital jacket. In her hand was a blue bag. Her red hair was neatly tied up, leaving a few loose stands. She smiled softly as Elliot stepped onto the floorboards. He looked up at her expectantly.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine," he simply answered. His eyes looked at her uniform. "You're going now?"

"Yeah, but I'll be back later," she smiled. "I left you some money on the counter for bowling. Do you remember what to call if its an emergency?"

"Yeah," he said, rolling his eyes. "911 or the hospital."

"Good," she said, patting him like he was a five year old. "And what hospital is that?"

"St. Jerome's," he answered. "Look, it's not that hard, Cass. I've been remembering this for three years now."

"Yeah, yeah I know," she said, her eyes hovering around the floor. "I still worry about you. I cannot lose you too. I just can't."

"Cassidy, you're not going to," Elliot assured, tapping his hand on her shoulder. "Just worry about your patients."

Cassidy smiled. For a few moments it felt like they changed places; he seemed to have been the older one, more mature, whilst she acted like the younger; worrying about things that wouldn't happen. But in a split second they had switched again, and Cassidy was running over the usual things like locking the door behind him, switching off the electricity, and she even reminded him to feed his dog, Whistle. Elliot began to nod at her words, yet he wasn't really listening – she had gone over these rules every Saturday, and every Wednesday; when she wouldn't be home.

"Right, I'm going now," she said, turning around to head down the stairs. "You sure your gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he answered, nodding his head. Cassidy smiled widely, walking down the stairs. After a minute he heard the door shut behind her and a sigh escaped his mouth.

Elliot rushed down the stairs, heading to the kitchen. The bottom floor was an open plan; with no doors or hallways. The stairs led into the dinning room which was painted light yellow. There was a wooden table in the centre, with flowers in the centre. A large archway on the left led to the blood red coloured living room, which had two cream sofa's close to the wall, and a widescreen television on the other wall. Another archway led to the big, well lit kitchen. Elliot headed to the kitchen, seeing his chocolate colour Labrador, Whistle, standing in the middle of it.

"Hey boy!" Elliot called in an excited voice. Whistle gained the same excitement and ran over to Elliot, licking his hands and face all over. Elliot laughed at his dog's excitement, stroking and patting him on the head. His fur was warm and soft under Elliot's pale fingers. Then, almost instantly, Whistle stopped moving. His dark eyes had grown wide; a little sob escaped his mouth. Elliot's hands went onto his dogs face, and he looked at him.

"Whistle, what is it?" he asked. There was no answer. "Whistle?"

Whistle sobbed again, pushing his head into Elliot's leg, as if he were trying to hide. Elliot looked to the direction Whistle had been looking in. There was a bang as he turned his head, and then his ice blue eyes widened.

Stood in the archway, with pure white skin, wearing a white dress, was a woman. Her eyes were dark brown, standing out against her skin; her mousy brown hair pointed downwards, as straight as a pin. Around her neck was a large slit; thick red liquid ran down to her chest slowly. Her thin hand was leaning on the arch frame, leaving a little bit of blood on it. Her glowing eyes stared at Elliot; filled with anger and sorrow.

Elliot's trembling hands lifted up from his dog, going behind his back. His eyes were wide, his heart thudded a hundred times faster and harder then it normally did. In fear or amazement he couldn't take his eyes off the young woman, who stared right back at him. His feet took a step backwards; his mouth opened to speak yet only air came out. He swallowed a few times, trying to wet his dried up throat. He knew she had to have been a ghost – or a zombie – she was defiantly not human. No human could have that kind of wound and breath at the same time; no human could actually handle the pain she was most likely going through. Not knowing what to do, he gained enough courage to speak.

"Who … who are you?" he whispered, feeling his arms go numb.

"Don't be frightened Elliot," she spoke quietly yet confidently. Her voice was frail. "If I wanted to have harmed you, or killed you, I would have done so already."

That saying was what his mother and father always used to tell him.

'_If they wanted to hurt you or kill you, they'd have done so already.'_

Shaking his mothers head from his thoughts, he took another step back from the strange and bizarre woman – if she didn't wish to kill him, what was she doing there? He wished to ask this, but again he was speechless. The eyes of the woman turned almost emotionless, showing the slight hint of pity.

"You're such an innocent child," she whispered. "I'm so sorry we will have to punish you so."

"P-punish me?!" Elliot whispered, remembering those horrible stories he had read about. His mind instantly thought of being tortured, the splattering of blood and the crunching of bones underneath the sharp teeth and claws of monsters.

"Do not blame us, Elliot," she said. "Do not blame Cassidy either; you are both wonderful children." Her voice suddenly turned eerie and creepy. "Ahahaha! At least we shall have some fun later."

The woman brought her other hand to her neck. She brushed the blood, taking some of the gooey substance on her finger. She placed it in her mouth, liking her finger clean – smiling from the metallic taste of her blood. Elliot took another step back, feeling his back knock into the cold side of the kitchen counter. Whistle stayed by his side, hiding his head under his knee. Elliot put his hands on the draw handle behind him.

"Are … have you been giving me nightmares?" he asked.

"Oh, so you have had them already?" she asked.

"I've had them all my life," Elliot corrected, tightening his grip around the handle.

"Well then. It is decided," she said. "Usually we do not give out warnings to those who will be condemned to hell; usually we just wait for them to fall into the trap, but I cannot really handle having such a small child in our territory without at least a warning."

Quickly, she turned around, walking up the stairs. The blood off her hand stayed on the wall, and a few other droplets fell onto the ground. Stunned and shocked, Elliot stood there, slowly sliding onto the floor; his back leant against the counter. When the woman had gone out of sight, Whistle stood up straight, and happily walked into the living room, leaving Elliot to sit in the room from shock.

* * *

"Elliot?" a soft voice said.

He was sat on his bed, his sheets pulled up and over his head. His back was against the top end of the bed and he was sat up straight; held loosely in his hand was a large meat knife, which shone in the light of the bulb that was suddenly switched on. The voice didn't frighten him; he knew it was Cassidy. Peeking out of a little gap in his sheets, he saw her drawing closer, hesitating as she did so. Confusion was plastered on her tired face.

"Elliot what are you doing?" she asked, standing by the bed. She stood in her usual stance; a hand placed on her hip, the other on the frame of the bed. Her stance was a little warmer then usual, and her eyes looked down to the knife in his hand. Her eyes widened.

"What are you doing with that?!" she yelled, holding her hand out. "Give it to me now."

Elliot pushed the sheets off his body, and held out the knife. He held it the wrong way; trying to give her the silver end. An irritated sigh left her mouth.

"Other end," she ordered. He turned the knife around, and she took the handle sharply. Her eyes were cold, and she looked at him; his eyes were bloodshot and his face was slightly wet, yet she didn't really take it in. It seemed she was too angry to notice him.

"I cannot believe you Elliot Frost!" she yelled.

"Sorry," he whispered, not truly understanding why he was getting yelled at.

"I am so angry at you!" she yelled. "Do you know how worried I was? Daniel's mother called me, saying he had been knocking at the door for ten minutes. Ten Elliot. You were supposed to be going bowling, and then to the cinema but you didn't!"

His mind clicked in, realizing he had forgotten about Dan. But, he never heard him knocking at the door; there were no knocks all day.

"Her mother was telling me how much of a terrible parent I was," she yelled, mostly to herself. "I'm not even your parent; when I told her this she went even crazier, threatening to phone the police. I'm your legal guardian for God's sake and I'm trying to do the best I can." Her one hand went up to her head. "Do you know how frickin hard you've made my afternoon? I had a cancer patient today, but I had to give him to another Doctor because I had to come home."

"I'm sorry, Cassidy," he whispered.

"Elliot, for this system to work we need to both work together," this was one of her favourite sayings. A long sigh escaped her mouth and she looked at his face, finally understand his expression. "I'm so sorry … I guess I'm just taking my stresses out on you. God, I can't believe we have to go to Silent Hill tomorrow."

"What?!" Elliot yelled, suddenly sitting up. Cassidy slapped her forehead.

"Oh I didn't tell you," she said. "We've got to go get Jamie and Thomas' things."

"What? Why now?" Elliot asked. "I don't want to go to mom and dad's old home, Cassidy!"

"I know, I know but we-"

"I don't care!" he yelled, standing up. His sheets fell to the floor and his hands had clenched into fists. "I refuse to go to Silent Hill!!"

"Elliot what's gotten into you?" Cassidy said, shocked by his yelling. "What happened to you today? You're acting so unusually."

"Like you'd believe me if I told you," he said, folding his arms. "You'll blame books – say I'm tired. Just like mom used to say."

"Elliot?" Cassidy asked, looking at him with concerned eyes.

"I saw that woman again," he said, looking down to the floor. "The one with brown hair and brown eyes; this time she was bleeding."

Cassidy sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at her brother; she stayed silent so he had a chance to speak.

"She spoke too," he said. "Said we're both in danger; that she was going to punish us." Tears began to form in his eyes. "We're going to be in a prison. Cassidy, I don't want them to take us away! I don't want to be stuck forever in a nightmare!"


End file.
